


John, 1973

by TheSchubita



Series: It Comes To You As To Us All [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Complicated Relationships, Developing Relationship, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Multi, Self-Esteem Issues, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:34:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22253476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSchubita/pseuds/TheSchubita
Summary: Just because you live in a world where everyone is fated for someone, doesn't mean happiness will be handed to you on a silver platter.Or the one where Brian believes in soulmates, Roger doesn't, Freddie just wants to belong, and only John even remotely has his shit together..“It’s my galaxy, I used to try and find it with my shoddy telescope at home,” Brian stumbled over his words in sheer excitement. “Do you know what this means? We’re-““No,” Roger interrupted harshly.
Relationships: John Deacon/Brian May/Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor
Series: It Comes To You As To Us All [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601965
Comments: 16
Kudos: 72





	John, 1973

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I had this lying around for over a year and it's part of a much bigger, unfinished work. I'll be posting the finished parts eventually, but in a non-chronological order as a series. 
> 
> This is a soulmate!AU, where everyone has soulmarks, and everyone has different 'kinds' of soulmarks - a world with endless possibilities. This deals with everyone's views of soulmates, and some are quite different than others, which leads to glorious angst, what I am best at at writing, lmao.
> 
> These are not beta'ed, and keep in mind written from October 2018 - February 2019, and since I'm not a native English speaker/writer, I'm sure there are some errors. However, I decided to post these while trying to overcome my writer's block for Sleepless Nights, hoping that rereading them might spark inspiration anew. I do still love this fandom and everyone contributing to it so dedicatedly, but I am a bit of a fickle writer, so I'm sorry you guys T_T. However, I'm not doing a /new/ project per se, as this was all written before Sleepless Nights, so to those still wanting me to update that one; don't worry ☺.
> 
> If there are things you feel I should tag but didn't think of, please tell me!

They had been arguing for what seemed like hours, about a particular section of John’s as of yet untitled song. Roger had been insisting that the beat needed picking up (it was _fine_ , thank you very much), and Brian was continuously slowing it down, maybe subconsciously, but likely on purpose. Brian had been in a mood all day, which in turn was kindling Roger’s infamous temper, which in turn made Freddie snappish. Even John’s patience was running thin at this point. He rubbed his temple, before making a grab for the music sheet Brian was waving around.

"Look," John started, addressing Roger. "It doesn’t _need_ a faster rhythm, because if would just take a look _here_ –" he pulled at Brian’s wrist, so the music sheet came closer to Roger’s scowling face, since Brian clearly wasn’t letting go of it, and pointed at a section.

"See? It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for God knows how long –" Brian interjected triumphally.

"But if you slow it down too much it’s going to fuck up the vocal harmonies and we’d have to start over –" Freddie spoke over Brian, earning him a glare which he ignored, instead pointing at the hastily scribbled lyrics.

"E- _fucking_ -xactly," Roger said. He stepped closer, vehemently tapping at the section giving them all a headache. "I’m sorry, but it sounds sloppy –"

"It does _not_ ," John snapped, last of his patience finally flying out of the window. "You can’t have a bloody drum solo on every damn track –"

"I’m not talking about a _solo_ , I’m just saying it needs some tightening up –" Roger retorted, blue eyes flashing.

"Deaky’s track is perfectly fine, why do you two always insist on being difficult?" Freddie said loudly.

"You always do this Fred," John winced at the name, meaning Brian was truly pissed now, "-taking his side just to be contrite –"

"Yeah, but when it’s _you_ criticizing it’s perfectly fine, isn’t it?" Roger tacked on.

"Oh, stop being so fucking childish, Deaky _asked_ me –"

"Well, _we_ didn’t –"

John rolled his eyes skyward. This was about to be an epic bitch-fest, and he wanted no part of it. Then he frowned. The studio was dimly lit in a yellowish tint from the lamps, but for some reason, the ceiling seemed to be reflecting a soft blue. Tuning the argument that had been reduced to name-calling at this point out, he looked around for the source of the light. Then his eyes fell back to their hands, fingers and limbs linking them all together somehow.

A familiar galaxy cluster had formed on Brian’s hand. In still familiar form, it extended over Brian’s wrist to John’s hand where it was clutching Brian’s wrist, but it didn’t stop there. Freddie’s fingers had been brushing against John’s own, and Brian’s beautiful soulmark extended over to Freddie, and over Freddie, to Roger’s slim hand, which was tangled with Freddie’s, and brushing against Brian’s hand, where he tried to pull the damned music sheet back.

They hadn’t noticed a thing yet, too busy trading insults.

John forgot how to breathe for a moment. He knew that Brian was his soulmate. He also knew that Freddie was, too, and though having more than one soulmate was unusual, it wasn’t exactly unheard of either. However, no pair of soulmates was supposed to share the same soulmark with another soulmate, let alone apparently _three_. John felt faint, and trying to regain his breath, let out a tiny _"Oh."_

For some reason, he was heard over the loud voices of _Brian-and-Roger_ by Freddie, and after following his wide-eyed gaze, suddenly jerked, jostling the other two.

" _Holy shit_ ," Freddie said softly. Brian and Roger looked down on their joined hands as well, stilling in the process. Someone gasped, but John was unable to tear away his gaze from the moving, evolving galaxy that spanned over their hands and arms. They all watched, completely mesmerized as the galaxy, _Brian’s_ galaxy, moved further, and deeper; John had seen his fair share of soulmarks, but never one quite as in-depth as this. It even gave off some faint light, and the darkness in between the tiny specks that were stars, the darkness was so complete it seemed to draw them all in.

After what seemed like an eternity, John managed to tear himself away to chance a look at the others. Brian looked equal parts overjoyed and fascinated, following every movement of their soulmark. John felt positively giggly at the prospect that apparently they were _all_ meant to be. Freddie’s face looked incredibly soft in the gentle light, and John felt his heart missing a beat at the sight.

Roger’s face – John had never seen him look so _young_ , caught in childlike wonder. John felt the sudden urge to preserve the look forever. But there was something dark lingering in his eyes, and John had seen it once or twice, when Roger absentmindedly rubbed his ankle, or stared at Brian’s neck. He was about to open his mouth to say something, but Brian beat him to it.

"It’s- this is _mine_ –" Brian whispered excitedly, his voice startling both Freddie and Roger. And only because John had been looking, did he catch the falling expression on Roger’s face, like a dark cloud, before becoming carefully blank. John felt a strange stinging in his chest at it. "It’s my galaxy, I used to try and find it with my shoddy telescope at home," Brian stumbled over his words in sheer excitement. "Do you know what this means? We’re-"

" _No_ ," Roger interrupted harshly. Brian and Freddie both looked up to him, startled, _hurt_. Roger’s face was still unnaturally blank for the usually expressive man, and Freddie seemed to catch on that something seriously went wrong in the last few seconds. Brian, as brilliant as he was, wasn’t quite as quick.

"But –" he said, sounding utterly confused. That’s when Roger suddenly yanked his hand back, the color and warmth from their hands immediately disappearing. Both Freddie and John made a sound of protest at the sudden loss, the beautiful soulmark already gone.

Visibly shaking, Roger made his way over to where he’d tossed his jacket hours ago. They all watched in horrified fascination, as he put on his sunglasses, effectively hiding his eyes, before he turned, all but running out of the studio without so much as a glance at any of them. Brian jerked into action a moment later, starting in the direction Roger had just left. Freddie quickly stopped him, however, gently taking Brian by his arm, and led him to a chair. Brian went, after a last look at the door. John followed after a moment, still processing the last few seconds.

"It’s best to leave him to it, darling," Freddie said quietly to Brian.

"But – why would- he does realize we all –" Brian, usually the most articulate out of them, didn’t seem able to find words. Freddie looked positively desolate, before he lifted his gaze from a distraught Brian to look at John. John shook his head mutely.

"It’s his business," he told Freddie, referring to their previous discussions concerning Roger. Freddie frowned, but before he could retort anything, Brian’s head snapped up.

"What do you mean –" he started hotly, then stopped, taking a good look at the loaded looks John and Freddie were sharing. "What’s this about?"

"No," John said sternly. "He’ll come to us when he’s ready –"

"And when will that be, hm, love?" Freddie said mockingly, eyes hard. "When we’re eighty and one of us is on our deathbed –"

"What the _fuck_ ," Brian emphasized, "Is going on?" They both startled. Brian rarely cursed. John sighed, throwing up his hands.

"This will come back biting our asses," he warned. Freddie smiled grimly.

"It already is," he replied. Brian huffed impatiently. "Hush, darling," Freddie told him. "We’ll tell you what we know in a mo’."

"Right," John said, moving sullenly over the rickety table where a half-empty bottle of whiskey stood.

"You know me so well," Freddie simpered. John shot him an unimpressed look. Freddie practically ripped the bottle out of John’s hand, opening it and taking a generous amount. He handed it over to Brian, who looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Trust me, you don’t want to be sober for this discussion," Freddie told him. After a moment of consideration, Brian drank.

"Alright," he said, handing the bottle over to John. "Start talking."

"Of course," Freddie said, then proceeded to think for a long moment, long enough that Brian got twitchy.

"Fred," John reprimanded.

"Well, how would you –" but John interrupted with reaching out his hand to Freddie. Freddie stared at it for a second, before understanding dawned in his eyes. "Brilliant, you are," he said. John’s lips twitched. Then Freddie took his hand. For a long, long, moment, nothing happened, and John could tell Brian was this close to smacking them over the head, before their soulmark, _Freddie-and-John’s,_ appeared. Their chests illuminated the room with an intense mix of _gold-red_ (Freddie) and _white-green-blue_ (John), pulsing in time with their heartbeats.

"What the –" Brian stood slowly, hands hovering over their chests. "Is that – your soulmark?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," Freddie said softly, proudly. The colors started to slowly bleed into each other with each passing heartbeat, until it changed to _silver-blue_. "I’ve been reading up on colors and their meaning," Freddie continued. John looked at him curiously. "I think this," he waved to the room, "Means we’re sad – or lost." John snorted.

"So – you’ve been soulmates this entire time?" Brian asked.

"Yes," John confirmed. Brian goggled at him.

"But – what about Veronica?" John looked at him calmly.

"What about her?"

"I thought –"

"We’re not," John replied. "Soulmates that is. But we’re still good with – and for – each other." His tone booked no argument. He loved these sods, but Ronnie’s history was her business and hers alone.

"Does she know?" Brian motioned between himself and John, then between John and Freddie.

"She does," John affirmed. Ronnie was awesome.

"Huh," Brian said. Even Freddie had raised his eyebrow.

"What?" John looked at Freddie. "Don’t tell me Mary doesn’t know," he said, suddenly aghast. Freddie winced.

"Not – exactly."

"Fred –" John started.

"Nevermind that," Freddie interrupted. He turned to Brian, who was still staring at their chests. "There’s a reason we showed you, dear."

"Well," Brian said after a long moment, sinking back into the chair. "It’s certainly unusual. And beautiful, too. Who’s is it?" John shrugged, but Freddie nodded his head towards John.

"What?" John said. "We don’t know that for sure." Freddie hummed.

"Well, call it a hunch, lovie," Freddie said nonchalantly. "Besides, since I’m pretty sure Roger didn’t get a tattoo in my handwriting on his ankle, it has to be from _me_."

" _What_?" Brian yelled. John blinked, letting go of Freddie’s hand. After a last flutter, the colors subsided into their chests.

"You’re sure?" John asked.

"Well, my chicken scratch is pretty damn unique, so yes," Freddie replied.

"What’s it say?" Brian asked curiously.

"Ah," Freddie said. "I’m afraid I didn’t get a too good look at it. Roger pulled a sock over it and refused to talk about it."

"Which brings us back to the main problem," John said dryly. "Roger," he paused. "We believe he has issues with soulmates."

"But why?" Brian asks. "It’s – I mean – _why on earth_?"

"We don’t know," Freddie said glumly.

"Could have to do something with his folks back home, maybe," John added.

"We don’t _know_ ," Freddie stressed. "His sister is perfectly lovely."

"She is," Brian agreed absentmindedly. "But – it’s true that he doesn’t talk about his childhood at all," he added slowly.

"He didn’t even talk about it with you?" Freddie asked, strange expression crossing his features.

"No – why are you looking at me like that?" Brian said.

"He does know you longest – we figured maybe –" John explained. Brian shook his head apologetically.

"Which is bloody typical of dear Roger, especially considering that you have his _soulmark_ -" John kicked Freddie’s shin with all his might and Freddie jumped up and shrieked indignantly, but the damage was already done. When John stole a look at Brian he swallowed.

Brian looked like someone had just shot him in his chest. Freddie, realizing what he just had blabbed, looked horrified.

"Oh no, Brian, darling, I never – I’m so sorry –"

"What," Brian croaked weakly. He cleared his throat. "What are you talking about?"

"Shit," John said, with feeling.

"Brian," Freddie started softly, moving his hand towards Brian’s neck, where the silvery soulmark was, echoing the original scar on Roger’s. "Did you never wonder how you got this?" Brian’s hand flew to it, touching it gingerly.

"I – that’s not a soulmark, that’s –"

"For God’s sake," John said. "It’s a scar, yes, but it’s not _your_ scar, it’s Roger’s. He has the exact same one, save for the redness of an actual scar."

"Besides," Freddie interjected. "It’s rather unusual, the color, isn’t it?" He pushed Brian’s impressive mop of curls out of the way, just in time for Brian to let his hand fall down on his lap, looking like the world had just come crashing down. The silvery soulmark twinkled cheerfully at them on Brian’s pale neck.

"Oh, _God_ ," Brian said. Freddie crouched down so he was looking up at Brian, face serious.

"I’m very sorry I told you like this – or at all," he began. "I shouldn’t have at all, really. Can you forgive me, dearest?" Brian was quiet for a long time, trying to process everything. He looked like he was about to cry.

"I, no Fred, there’s nothing to forgive." He reached for Freddie’s hand, shaking his head. "I just don’t understand why he just didn’t tell me –" he looked to the door again. "How long did you know?" He asked, weakly motioning to his neck.

"A while," Freddie said softly. "But to my defense, Roger is very good at lying – mostly to himself."

"Well, we weren’t really sure at first," John added. "No one can see shit under those clouds you both call hair." Freddie immediately bit his lower lip to stop himself from laughing. After a moment, Brian snorted.

"Why did we let you join again?" He asked John in a playfully derisive tone.

"Because no other bassist was insane enough to put up with your enormous egos and tantrums." He cocked his head to one side. "Also, I keep up with your erratic music extravaganzas," he added as an afterthought.

"Aw, Deaky," Freddie swooned, getting up from his crouch to throw his arms around John. "It’s all about that pert little arse of yours."

"Sod off," John muttered, but held still. As soon as Freddie decided to latch onto you there was no escaping until he either had his fill or found a new victim. After a second, Freddie lifted his head and motioned Brian closer.

"Come on now, Bri, a good cuddle will take the sad away," Freddie said. Brian rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the wobbly smile, as he got up and joined their hug. "There we go," Freddie said, pulling both John and Brian close with not-so-surprising strength. John could feel Brian tremble against them.

"It’s – probably – going to be okay," John said. There was a beat of silence.

"Wow, Deaky, that’s what I call a pep-talk," Brian said, shoulder shaking from amusement.

"See," Freddie said. "Much better." He lifted his head from where it had been buried between John’s and Brian’s shoulders. Brian smiled, but it quickly disappeared.

"What are we gonna do?" He asked, biting his lips.

And wasn’t that the Million Dollar question.

.

In the end, they decided that John should go talk to Roger. Brian was too emotional, right now, and with both of them emotionally unstable, it was a disaster just waiting to happen. Freddie elected to bring Brian home to Mary.

_"I think it would be best if you went, Deaky,"_ Freddie had said. _"You’re the only one who doesn’t share a direct soulmark with, he’ll listen to you."_ Privately, John agreed. Roger was stubborn as any of them, if not more so. Luckily, he was also predictable in his habits, and John had a good idea where to find him.

He stepped through the door of their shared apartment, locking the door and tossing the keys on the table. Kicking his shoes off, he went directly to Roger’s room, and true enough, Roger was lying on his mattress, eyes puffy and bottle of vodka in one hand. The room looked even worse than usual, which meant Roger’s temper hat gotten the better of him.

"Jesus, Roger," John muttered. Roger looked up at him with glassy eyes, and John wasn’t sure if it was from crying or from the drinking. A look at the bottle answered that; it was almost full, which meant Roger was in such a state that he wasn’t even able to drown his sorrows properly. John had his work cut out for him, it seemed.

"Go ‘way," Roger said, petulant. John did the opposite of that, and made his way over. Roger glared at him, but it had little effect on John; he was _tired_ and even less willing than usual to put up with Roger’s bullshit. He wrestled the bottle from Roger, setting it on the desk. Roger made a sound of protest, but John shot him a look. "Where’re the others, then?" Roger heckled. John took the opportunity to sit down next to Roger.

"Freddie took Brian back to Mary’s," he answered shortly.

"So, you drew the short straw, then?" Roger said, going for casual.

"Brian is in no state to see you right now, and Freddie’s pretty upset, too," he said quietly. Roger flinched, indifferent front cracking. "Roger, what’s going on with you?" Roger drew a shaky breath.

"I don’t want to talk about it," he said. John clenched his hand into fists.

"Well, _I_ do," he said mildly. Roger turned away. John took hold of Roger’s wrist to pull him back, but Roger flinched violently away from his touch. John didn’t let himself feel hurt.

"It’s Brian’s soulmark," he said instead. Roger twitched at the word, as if it physically pained him. "It won’t appear when _I_ touch you." He reached for Roger’s wrist again, and this time, Roger let John pull him closer without any fuss.

"How’d you figure it’s his," Roger muttered.

"After you exited rather suddenly, us adults sat down and decided to talk it out," John said. "Turns out you already have something of Freddie’s too," he continued, tapping lightly at Roger’s ankle.

"Freddie _told_?" Roger asked, face slack.

"Yes, after we told Brian that Freddie and I share a soulmark as well," John said patiently. "If you’d have been present, you might’ve had a choice." He carefully let out the part where Freddie blabbed to Brian about the scar; Brian had insisted that Roger would get the benefit of the doubt, for now.

" _Fuck_ ," Roger said, hands roving through his tangled hair before he looked at John. "You don’t think this is all fucked up?" John shook his head.

"It kinda makes sense, if you think about it, doesn’t it?" Roger looked at him incredulously. "Look Rog," he said. "I don’t understand what your – _issue_ is. We can’t change _that_ , now, but it doesn’t really matter, in the end." Roger opened his mouth, no doubt to object, but John steamrolled over him. "It _doesn’t matter_ , because _we_ already chose." Roger snapped his mouth shut again. "And now, I want you to tell me what exactly your problem is with us being your soulmates." The muscles in Roger’s jaw were twitching, and John could see the stubborn glint reappear. Inwardly, John sighed.

"Well, for starters, there’s no way all of us have _three_ soulmates –"

"Cut the bullshit, that’s not what I meant and you know it," John butted in. Roger halted, then chuckled humorlessly.

"Sometimes, I really hate you for that, you know," Roger said. John shuffled closer, patting Roger’s thigh.

"No you don’t," he said easily. Roger huffed but some of the tension left him.

"It’s – it’s not about any of you, I just don’t want a s- _that_ ," Roger said quietly. "I don’t like the idea of having to –"

"To commit?" John asked. Roger looked away. "But you already are, to _Queen_ ," he said. "So what’s the difference?" Roger laughed; it sounded rather empty.

"But that’s different, Deaks." Roger said. "A – a – it’s another can of worms and I –" John could tell Roger was close to some form of emotional breakdown. "It either ends in shambles or you drudge on until you end up hating the person you’re supposed to love the most," he said dully. John thought his words over for a long time.

"Not always – and we’re good with each other, aren’t we? All of us?" John asked. Roger looked over to him, and John thought he looked very young, suddenly.

"We are," Roger agreed. "But I don’t want – I don’t want – I don’t want to see that – empty warmth, ever again," he said, more to himself. John frowned.

"What are you talking about?" Roger seemed to come to himself.

"Nothing, Deaks," he said, rubbing his face tiredly. "Just – having a soulmate forced on yourself can be terribly lonely for everyone involved." The words made something in John’s ribcage twist painfully.

"Do you feel forced by me being here?" He asked, dreading the answer.

"Not by _you_ ," Roger assured him. "But – by _that_? Yeah," he added.

"Roger?" John said quietly. Roger looked at him. "Can I – What do you need?" he asked. Roger looked away again, visibly wrestling with himself.

"I need – I need everything to remain the same," he said. "It’s not fair to you, I _know_ , but –" his breath stuttered, then, and John wanted nothing more than hug him, but he restrained. He needed to hear it. "I can’t ever be _that_ , for anyone. I’m not –" he struggled with his words. "Just, _no_."

" _What_ aren’t you, Roger?" John asked softly. Roger closed his eyes.

"I’m not _made_ for that – I can’t be. And it – it wouldn’t be _fair_ , to you." There was something, underlying in those words. "Please," Roger said, voice a wreck. "Please don’t make me." And John would’ve almost believed him, would have accepted the rejection with a sinking heart, but –

Roger wasn’t rejecting _them_ – he was rejecting _himself_.

And this – he had so many things he wanted to say to Roger, so many things he _should_ say – but words have never been the thing to reach Roger.

‘ _Roger is very good at lying – mostly to himself._ ’ Freddie’s words from earlier echoed through his mind. He clenched his fist, before he made himself relax.

"Alright," is what he said instead. "If that’s what you need, I’ll – I’ll accept it," John said slowly. "But – but I’ll be here if –" Roger chuckled again, but it sounded sad.

"Alright, John, alright," he whispered. "I believe you." He didn’t, John could hear the lie of his statement. But he would come to believe it, in time. John was sure.

John would make sure.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone understood this concept of how soulmarks work and which are from the boys? 
> 
> Your thoughts are always welcome :)


End file.
